To Free Will
by princessg101
Summary: What do you get when you take two American hunters and their 'supernatural' family, add in a time-travelling alien and his family, plus a high-functioning sociopath and his family? A dark, sarcastic adventure into the world of aliens, creatures, and criminals. SUPERWHOLOCK (Don't let the character list fool you, appearances of literally everyone)
1. Chapter 1

To Free Will

 **A/N: What's up bitches? 100** **th** **story is here! I can't believe its been this many stories and I can't thank you all enough for supporting me through each and every one. So this is indeed a SuperWhoLock which also makes this my first Sherlock. Fair warning, I'm not saying that I will also be adding that to my regular upload list but we'll see. On the matter of ships I will say this, I haven't fully decided as yet and if I do, if I have a ship you don't agree with, you're within your right to stop reading and let me know that you don't like it but it's still my call. ENJOY! R &R PLZ! **

Mycroft finished reading a report and let out a heavy breath. He still wasn't sure he believed half of it but this was something that was destined to go deep, _deep_ into the Black Archive. Never to see the light of day again. If anyone discovered, two countries and several…beings would be in grave danger. He slipped the file back into its manila envelope and tied it tight. One of those heavies from UNIT would undoubtedly be along to pick it up. Kate Stewart was not a woman to be trifled with, especially when it came to…that man. For the first time ever, the man who his little brother affectionately referred to as THE British government was dealing with something above his paygrade and it did not sit well with the older Holmes. "Oh little brother," he sighed, touched the envelope. "How was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't," a voice sounded from the corner of the room. "That was the point." It was short man with a beard and light British accent. Crowley was his name.

"What do you want?" Mycroft asked shortly.

"Now, now," Crowley tutted. "We're not enemies here. If you helped us out a great deal. I thought I'd bring you a gift." He produced a bottle of Scotch from inside his jacket. "Won't find this vintage anywhere."

"I could use a drink," Mycroft allowed. "Care to join me?"

"I won't say no," Crowley sat down and made two glasses appear. He poured them healthy amounts and raised his with a tilt, "To a new kind of international cooperation."

Mycroft tapped the glass with his, "Indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

To Free Will  
Chapter 1 – A Different Kind of Case

It was a misty morning in London that saw a black town car gliding sleekly along the roads leading to Baker Street. Inside was a man who prided himself on being the height of British Government. Having been privy to some of the country's biggest secrets, it was no small thing to this man to be told that something was above his station especially when it was clear that there were no answers. Call it hubris, call it suspicion, but the man was resolute in finding out what was going on and for that, he needed the only other man in England as brilliantly stubborn as he, his little brother.

The town car pulled up to 221B Baker Street and Mycroft Holmes collected the files he had, preparing for what was sure to be a humiliating experience for him. "You may as well take a break," he told the driver. "I'm sure Sherlock will make this slow and painful."

"Yes sir," the driver responded with a low chuckle.

Mycroft grimaced and made his way in, he stopped by Mrs. Hudson's door and knocked once. The woman answered the door, "Oh Mycroft, Sherlock and John are upstairs. Shall I bring up some tea?"

"Actually no Mrs. Hudson," Mycroft gave her his best approximation of a smile. "I have some very sensitive materials I need to discuss with my little brother and I would appreciate us being left alone. I'm…technically mind you….breaking the rules by being here."

Mrs. Hudson levelled the man a look, "Well then I shan't interrupt. Go on dear."

Mycroft nodded and went up the stairs to Sherlock's door. Before he lifted his hand, he heard his brother call out, "Come in Mycroft."

The elder Holmes took a deep breath and entered. "Hello brother mine."

Sherlock was sitting in his customary chair while Dr. Watson sat on the couch, bouncing his daughter on his knee. "Breaking the rules are we Mycroft?"

"Eavesdropping is not an admirable trait," Mycroft rejoined.

"Useful though," Sherlock countered unabashed. "So what have you brought me?"

"Disappearing murder victims," Mycroft summed up.

"Sorry," John interrupted. "You mean kidnapped victims who've been murdered?"

"No I mean genuinely mean murder victims whose bodies go missing after they are discovered," Mycroft tossed his files on the coffee table. "There have been about thirty thus far. Just people found mutilated and discarded in random areas of the city. However nearly as soon as the bodies are discovered, government agents swoop in, claim the remains and evidence and nothing is ever said again. The murders aren't stopping but the cover up continues."

"What's the catch? Surely you can find out what's happening for yourself," Sherlock scoffed then paused. "Unless you can't…" Mycroft didn't respond and Sherlock narrowed his eyes, lips curling in a smirk. "Brother…?"

"The government locked you out?" John laughed outright.

"Apparently my reach only extends so far," Mycroft muttered.

"So you can get into top secret government testing facilities but you can't find out what's happened to these missing people," John concluded.

"As it stands, yes," Mycroft admitted sourly.

"Poor brother mine," Sherlock drawled. "Something else happened didn't it? You wouldn't be here if it was only matter of bureaucratic red tape."

Mycroft grumbled and reached into the stack of files. He pulled out one and flipped it open revealing a photo of a woman with a personnel file paperclipped to it. "This is Kate Stewart. Head of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce or UNIT. Apparently her reach is sufficient as she so curtly informed me."

"I think Mycroft may have found his match," Sherlock pulled the dossier towards him. "So what is the purpose of UNIT?"

Mycroft enunciated very deliberately, "I don't know."

Sherlock and John stared dumbfounded. John made a disbelieving noise, "I can't tell if this is a sign of the end times or Christmas came early."

"Both." Indeed Sherlock had never looked so thrilled and yet so shaken.

Mycroft cleared his throat grumpily, "The case gentlemen."

"Yes well, we have a governmental organization of unknown purpose apparently reclaiming dead bodies and making them disappear. The fact Mycroft can't access the information -"

"Try not to sound so pleased when you say that," Mycroft interjected.

Sherlock didn't listen, "- is indicative of something vastly important but also a system attempting to keep it under wraps, even from its top operatives."

"Could it have anything to do all the crazy space stuff that keeps happening around here?" John proposed.

"But they were people, humans," Mycroft said.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft frowned, "Well they certainly _looked_ like humans when they were found."

"Then it's still a potential theory," Sherlock allowed. "London has always been a hotbed for the strange but why cover it up? Even Anderson is aware that there is extraterrestrial life."

"Yes out there," John waved a hand to the sky and the cosmos. "But living here? Looking like humans? That might cause some problems."

"Oh homo sapiens," Sherlock snorted softly. "Just because we call ourselves humans, we think we own the block on humanity."

"Philosophy aside," Mycroft moved them along. "Even it were something extraterrestrial, how would we go about investigating this? There is something serious happening in London gentlemen," he impressed on them. "People, beings, what have you, are dying and for the first time, I don't think this is something that the government is capable of handling. Believe or not, I'm not here because of my pride, I'm here because I'm…worried."

"You realise that if we pursue this, it will gain attention. What exactly are you going to say?" Sherlock looked to his brother.

"Well I know too much to be just fired," Mycroft commented lazily. "Either my position saves me and I get away with it or you'll be one the taking Mummy and Father on their outings. I believe I have set the appropriate groundwork to avoid the proverbial noose."

"One can hope," Sherlock replied sardonically. "Well then Watson, let's drop off your progeny with her mother, the game is afoot."

 **A/N: Hey guys, I know its been an age and a half but I didn't waste the time promise. I have a solid storyline worked out. It will be very Sherlock heavy for the first few chapters but our favourite timelord and American hunters are on their way. I'll go over the particulars with you guys next time until then, ENJOY! R &R PLZ! **


	3. Chapter 3

To Free Will  
Chapter 2 – Doctor On-Call

The meeting with Mycroft was just the beginning of what was destined to be one of the most surreal times of John's and the Holmes men's lives. Especially for John since he had thought he'd hit the limit for impossible watching Sherlock and Mycroft work in surprisingly good tandem. Between the older Holmes' governmental contacts and the younger's underground network, it was surprisingly easy to track down the UNIT base but that was also the first signal that things were about to get way out of hand. "THE Tower of London," John checked for the twentieth time.

"Yes," Mycroft semi-hissed with limited patience. "She goes all over London but I was able to triangulate a general area based off of Miss Stewart's cellphone. Her number is about the only accessible personal information we have."

"Then my informants canvased the area and spotted her several times going in and out of the Tower, sometimes accompanied by an assistant. She is apparently fond of the vendors that sell out front."

"So what's the plan then? Infiltrate the Tower of London?" John said incredulously.

"No," Sherlock drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "If we go straight to Stewart's ground, we'll be playing by her rules. We have to get her on our territory."

"Christ Sherlock," John exclaimed, already catching on. "It's a hospital not a battlefield."

"Depends on the fight doctor," Sherlock muttered as he got his cellphone. He dialled and waited patiently for the other end to pick up. "Ah, Molly. Glad I caught you on a slow day."

*TFW*

At Barts, Molly was buried under the sheer amount of paperwork that swamped her desk. When it came to reports, some of her interns had all the work ethic of blundering gorillas and not much better handwriting. Despite having her findings recorded on tape and the perfectly simple organizing system, several files were a mess. This left Molly having to go through and rewrite almost two months worth of post mortems. She was going to have to cut some people from the program at this rate and that meant even more paperwork. The pathologist huffed in frustration and then jumped at the sound of her cellphone ringing from somewhere in the depths of those poor, ill-treated, mutilated tree remains. She snorted for brief second, "Pathology jokes about paper Molly?"

It took a few moments to sift through the papers to find her cell and once she saw the caller ID, she knew nothing good was going to come of this. Sherlock Holmes does not phone. Ever. "Yes Sherlock?"

"Ah, Molly. Glad I caught you on a slow day."

Molly glanced at the condition of her desk, "This has hardly been a slow day. What do you want Sherlock?"

"Molly you've had three bodies all day. Two coronaries and an aneurism, hardly anything to break a sweat over."

"Yes but I have a huge backlog of shoddy paperwork that needs correcting," Molly explained. "So please, whatever this is, it better be important."

"It is. I'm working a case for my brother as a personal favour."

"Your brother," Molly clarified. "The height of British Government. Called you of all people to help him with a _personal favour_?"

"Glorious isn't it?"

"I'm fairly certain I just felt hell freeze under my feet," Molly quipped. "So what does this have to do with me?"

"The gist of it is that there have been several murder victims whose bodies have gone missing after they've been discovered. All records and information regarding those victims also disappears. We want to lure the woman in charge of the government operation that's been covering up these deaths to St. Barts where we can corner her."

"Hang on," Molly stopped him. "The person you're after is a government agent and your brother can't touch her?"

"Like I said, glorious."

"I'd love to help Sherlock but I already have so much on my plate. Let alone falsifying documents and everything needed -"

"Leave that to me Doctor Hooper. I'm sure Mycroft can scrounge up a few men with legible handwriting to scribe your notes and are able to read labels. Besides, if there are bodies involved, I want you there Molly."

Damn that man, Molly scowled. He knew all the right buttons to push. "Fine," Molly sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

"For now, just create a dummy file in the system for a John Doe. He needs to have clear signs of homicide, autopsy to confirm."

"Sherlock," Molly gnawed her lip. "Is this safe?"

"…I'll be at St. Barts in ten minutes. I'll call Lestrade along the way and see if he could get there ahead of me. Nothing is going to happen to you Molly."

"Okay, I trust you Sherlock Holmes," Molly hung up. "Famous case of last words," she whispered. Still she went to her desk and started a file for 'John Doe'.

*TFW*

Elsewhere, Kate Stewart was at her wit's end. The murders were racking up and it was up to her to provide the answers but she had none. At this rate, there would be another invasion or coup if she didn't somehow bring peace and resolution to this. She hears footsteps behind her, "Osgood please tell me you have some good news."

"I'm sorry ma'am," the young scientist apologized. "We've looked everywhere, there's isn't a single clue or lead as to what's been killing them. The methods are disturbing but also confusing, we can't even pinpoint what's really been done to the victims. Trace has turned up everything from modern weapons to myrrh oil to what would appear to be a thousand year-old blade."

"We're going to have to call him," Kate concluded.

"The Doctor?"

"Who else?"

"Sorry ma'am," another agent rapped at the door urgently. "Looks like we've got another one."

"Where?"

"The body had already been taken to Barts. No autopsy yet."

"Let's move," Kate grabbed her coat. "Call Barts and tell them that no one is to process that body until we arrive. After that, we'll bring in the Doctor."

 **A/N: Hey guys, so I don't think I've properly established a timeline for this story. So this is happening somewhere before Sherlock's The Final Problem, Doctor Who's Zygon Inversion, and Supernatural's entire twelfth season, after Mary comes back but before she teams with the Men of Letters. And if that isn't big hint for what's about happen, good. That means I'm doing my job. Hope you're all still with me, thank you for sticking around. ENJOY! R &R PLZ! **

**P.S. I'm sure I've made Molly a bit more quippy but I feel as though she has lost a lot of her timidness around Sherlock.**


	4. Chapter 4

To Free Will  
Chapter 3 – Showdown At Bart's

Kate Stewart strode in Bart's purposefully, trailed by a couple of agents in non-descript clothing. Her laser focus was such that she didn't acknowledge anyone, heading straight for the stairs to go down to the morgue. She didn't even notice John Watson leaning casually against a pillar near the entrance. "Heading your way," he whispered into his Bluetooth earpiece as she passed. "You were right, she's taking the stairs."

"She wants to avoid as many cameras as possible," Sherlock replied from the morgue where he, Mycroft, Molly, Lestrade, and a dummy body under a sheet they'd procured for the ruse were waiting. "She's coming," he reported to the group. "Mycroft and I will wait in your office Molly, just talk with Lestrade as normally as possible."

Molly bobbed her head nervously and the Holmes brothers slipped away. Greg swallowed, "Shall I start?" Molly nodded and he cleared his throat, "Molly I don't understand what the hold up is. This is clearly murder investigation, you said so yourself as soon as you saw the corpse."

"I'm sorry Greg," Molly's tone wavered a bit but held firm. "I'm under strict orders not to start an autopsy. This is way above my head. I'm sure Mike is working through what's going on but until then, my hands are tied."

"What about a surface exam then? Give me something to work with."

"I'm sorry Detective, that won't be happening," Kate came in with her agents. "This body is to be remanded to the government's custody. Kate Stewart, head of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce." She showed them her badge.

"Hang on I know you," Greg said with genuine recognition. "You were at a few other murder scenes, always disappearing with the evidence, saying it was out of the Yard's jurisdiction."

"As it is now," Kate informed him curtly. "Dr. Hooper, you will sign here and hand the body over." She gave Molly the papers to authorize the transfer. The pathologist received them with shaky fingers and an anxious glance at Lestrade.

"Now just a second, she isn't signing anything," he argued. "If this is all related then we have an active serial killer in London and forgive me but given the number of bodies, the government doesn't seem to be having any luck catching him."

"But Sherlock Holmes will?" Kate asked sardonically. "Please Lestrade, don't pretend that it will be the Yard investigating this case."

"Like the government hasn't ever called on Holmes," Lestrade didn't back down. "It's not just because he's brilliant, which he is, he's see things differently, operates differently. And more often than we care to admit, we need that."

"He killed an innocent man," Kate stated baldly. "He is a convicted murderer."

"Who was promptly called back from his sentence when a scary advert ran," Molly griped. "Forgive me as well ma'am but after all I'd seen with Moriarty and his uncanny ability to run circles around everyone even after death, one does start to lose faith in the establishment."

"Alright look, regardless of your opinion on Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade said. "It doesn't change the fact that people are dying in London and you want the Yard to look the other way."

"You have no idea how far this extends, the Yard is not equipped for a situation of this magnitude. I'm sure you have other cases you can play with Sherlock on."

"Oh but I do so enjoy this one," Sherlock appeared behind her, Mycroft by his side. John came in as well, shutting and locking the door behind him. The agents with Kate pulled out their guns and she signalled for them to hold their fire.

"Well Mycroft Holmes, you would endanger everyone here including your own brother for the sake of your ego."

"Ego has nothing to do with it," Mycroft replied evenly. "My dear Ms. Stewart, as the inspector so astutely observed, the murders continue and you have not made head way against the threat."

"And how would you know that?" Kate challenged.

"My reach, as it were, may not extend to your department but I would advise not to play the bureaucratic game of chess with me. My little brother isn't the only one with the powers of deduction but," Mycroft side-eyed Sherlock, "he is the best…for now."

"Allow Dr. Watson to remove those bamboo shoots from under your fingernails later brother," Sherlock never broke gaze from Kate. "Now then Ms. Stewart, you've heard my references, what is your word?"

"Absolutely not," Kate said instantly. "We cannot afford to have civilians and security risks privy to this matter."

Sherlock did his best approximation of a soft smile. "That wasn't what I was asking. I've already accepted the case, I will be working on it. The question is how hard are you going to make this for me?"

"We could kill you right now," Kate supposed.

"The government would have had me killed months ago when I shot Magnussen," Sherlock nodded to Molly. "But as per Dr. Hooper's astute observation, when London is under threat the brass would rather have me alive."

Kate took a breath, "In some ways you are correct. This…case, it is difficult, but we are dealing with a lot more than just murder victims as heinous as that is on it's own. If we need your expertise, we will call on you. You're not the only brilliant mind in existence Sherlock Holmes, we have one of our own."

"Who?"

Suddenly a strong wind rose in the confined morgue and a strange grinding noise filled the air. Then, slowly fading into existence, a blue police box materialised on the opposite end of the examination table. Everyone was awestruck. "Bloody hell!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"That is impossible," John gaped.

"Not really," Kate beamed. "Gentlemen, meet the Doctor."

Just then the door opened and tall young man with long gangly limbs stepped out. He was dressed in an old-fashioned, red and yellow stripped, men's swimsuit with floaters on his arms and snorkeling mask over his face. "Welcome to Pismo Beach and all the clams we can eat!"

 **A/N: HE'S HERE! I wonder what Sherlock and Baker Street gang are going to think of their new ally. I know I made Kate kind of a hard ass here but she is under a lot of strain that will get explained either in the next chapter or the one after that. Sorry for the huge wait in updates, life is hectic folks. See you when I see you. Until then, ENJOY! R &R PLZ! **


	5. Chapter 5

To Free Will  
Chapter 4: Doctor…Who?

It should be said that the Baker Street men were not men that could be easily stunned. But having a police box materialise in the morgue and then a man in 1920's swimwear with rubber duck floaties and a scuba mask emerge from said box was enough to stun Sherlock, John and his ever-composed older brother Mycroft. Lestrange and Molly were practically new St. Bart's statuary while Kate lightly face-palmed at the entrance of her supposed expert. "Doctor," she said in a pained voice. One that had clearly been through something like this one too many times. "Do you think perhaps you might consider changing your attire?"

The 'Doctor' frowned. "Well yes, I suppose. Excuse me." He slipped back into the box.

"You have to excuse him," Kate said. "The problem with the Doctor is that you never know what time you'll catch him at and which version of him you're going to get."

"What?" John asked dumbfounded.

"You heard me," the woman replied shortly.

The Doctor appeared a moment later, this time dressed in a pinstripe, three-piece suit and a box. His floppy hair brushed out of his youthful. He was tall and gangly but there was an indefinable air of authority in the way he surveyed the room. Not only that but from the box emerged three other people. One woman with long red hair in blue jeans and a white blouse, a short man with bristly hair and a large nose dressed in shorts and a plaid button up, and finally another woman with exceptionally curly hair and shrewd expression outfitted in denim. Kate did the introductions. "Doctor, this is Sherlock Holmes, his brother Mycroft Holmes, Doctor John Watson, lead pathologist of St. Bart's Molly Hooper, and Inspector Greg Lestrade of Scotland Yard. Everyone this is the Doctor and his associates Amy and Rory Pond and Professor River Song."

"Mr. Holmes," the Doctor inclined his head.

"Doctor," Sherlock returned. "Doctor who?"

"Just Doctor," the other said. "That is my name, Doctor. You're trying to read me Sherlock, having any luck with that?"

"With you not so much," Sherlock put his hands behind his back. "Old-fashioned clothing that looks pristine and still well-worn. Your intention was obviously not to be here but somehow you are. Kate's comment that seem to hint at time travel and your changing appearance. The strange Police Box that appears to hold more than its dimensions would suggest while having the capabilities to materialise anywhere. All of which lead for me to conclude that you are of some alien origin and that in turn leaves all other deductions to be circumspect. Your associates I can a few determinations, first, the Ponds are potentially a married couple judging by the rings which I cannot say is distinctly Earth custom, but the traditional gold bands are ubiquitous on this planet. Professor Song I would term your enforcer or perhaps handler, judging by the durable material she is wearing and the concealed weapons on her waist and ankles. Professor of what exactly?"

"Archaeology of course," River smiled.

"Not bad," the Doctor critiqued. "You are correct I am an alien. A timelord to be precise. The very last of an ancient race that was wiped out over a millennium ago during a war. I know, I was there. I don't die precisely, every few hundred years or when I am fatally injured I regenerate. Change my face, my body, can't do it forever but I have been alive for a very long time. This is my TARDIS." He gestured to the Police Box. "TARDIS stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Able to anywhere, anytime that I please or she pleases since she is sentient in her own right. The Ponds are indeed married and they are human, they're my friends. Professor Song is their daughter who augmented with timelord genetics, exceptionally long story. I can accept the term handler but really she is my wife."

"Well at least someone leads a more madcap life than us eh?" Greg muttered.

"You have absolutely no idea mate," Rory shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You're the normal one?" Greg pointed at him.

"Yeah, you?"

Greg nodded and put out at hand, "Hold on, it's about to get weirder."

He and Rory shook on it. "Likewise."

"So what's going on Kate?" Amy inquired.

"There have been a series of murders all over London. All of them have been Zygons Doctor," she said this gravely, but the Doctor stared at her with a blank expression.

"There are Zygons living in London?"

Kate groaned. "This is madness. It hasn't happened for you yet has it?"

"No this is news to me," Doctor shrugged.

"Alright yes there are Zygons living in London," Kate huffed. "You…and you….and you and another associate negotiated a treaty of sorts after an attempted invasion. They have been living peacefully ever since, that is until now. Something is killing them, we don't who or why but they are dying. And the rest of the Zygons are getting nervous. They suspect the government of trying to wipe them out. If we don't get the situation under control there may well be an uprising."

"There it is." Greg and Rory said together.

"Dear god," John gasped.

"And you've brought Sherlock Holmes onto the case," the Doctor ventured.

"His brother did, against my wishes and now I can't get him to leave." Kate snarked.

"You've already accepted that I'll be working on this case or you wouldn't have discussed the details in front of me." Sherlock rejoined. "What do you say Doctor? My team and yours?"

"The more the merrier." The Doctor accepted. "Where do we start?"

"Well the body here -" Kate indicated to the table.

"Actually," Molly pulled off the sheet to show her the dummy body. "Sorry."

"It was faster than an appointment," Sherlock clarified. "And more convenient than just showing up to the Tower of London."

Kate's eyebrows rose, "Okay now I'm impressed."

"As am I," the Doctor concurred. He turned and opened the door to the TARDIS for them. "Shall we?"

 **A/N: Hey guys, hope you're all having a great holiday season. Let's hope for a great 2018. Kisses! XOXO**


	6. Chapter 6

To Free Will  
Chapter 5 – Into The TARDIS

The first person to make a sound was Molly. The moment she entered, she breathed so audibly that everyone paused. "It's – it's -" the pathologist stuttered.

"Bigger on the inside," John whispered awed.

"Time and _relative dimension_ ," Sherlock looked around. "So then we're in a self-contained pocket dimension?"

"Very astute Mr. Holmes," River nodded.

"It is remarkable technology," Mycroft added. "But you mentioned it was sentient?"

"SHE is sentient," the Doctor corrected him. "You're riding in her, show some respect. The TARDIS is mix of organic material and advanced tech. It is extremely difficult to construct, impossible now that my home planet is gone. Where are we off to Kate?"

"The Tower," Kate said. "You know where to go."

"Still TARDIS-proofed then is it?" the Doctor commented idly, flipping levers and smashing buttons. River very patiently followed behind him, correcting his work with a gentle albeit smug smile.

"Is that possible?" Amy asked.

"Anything is possible." River turned a knob the Doctor missed.

"What do we know about the murders?"

"Next to nothing," Kate sighed. "All over London, Zygons have been turning up dead, corpses mutilated beyond recognition but they died in human form. There is no pattern, no reasoning, we've checked with the Zygon leadership who report no wrongdoing on their end. They are beginning to believe we are the ones behind the killings. Doctor we have to do something."

"We will Kate," the Doctor landed the ship. "We will put a stop to this." They all filed out of the TARDIS and entered the historic Tower of London. Kate brought them through a series of winding tunnels into an underground base. They passed several work area until they reached a room much like the morgue at Barts except there was nothing else but a series of tables covered with sheets lined on either side.

"Eight deaths and counting," Kate said solemnly. "."

"They started lives here, they were innocent," John murmured.

"The Zygons live peacefully, camouflaged to look humans. They have jobs and families and lives," Kate steadied herself. "Whoever did this is a monster."

"Show us the most recent body Kate," the Doctor requested and Kate directed them to the table on their immediate right.

"Brace yourselves," she warned before lifting the sheet to expose the mangled corpse of what looked like a middle-aged man. Amy gasped horrified and hid her face in Rory's shoulder who turned them away. River immediately reached for the Doctor and he took her hand to grasp it tight. Lestrade and John covered their mouths with their forearms while Mycroft shut his eyes. Molly swayed slightly but Sherlock grabbed her shoulder.

"Molly what do you see?" Holmes asked.

The pathologist gingerly pulled on some gloves from her pockets and stepped towards the body. "One long cut has been made from the sternum to the pelvic area. The edges indicate a sharp precise tool was used cut away at the flesh to reveal the inner organs however there is evidence of cauterization in the cuts."

"What? Like hot knives," Amy demanded. "What are we in? The Dark Ages?"

"There's evidence of more cuts similar to that along the arms, legs, face, and pubic area. It's almost like they were attempting to flay him in a sense."

"Sick bastards," Lestrade growled.

"I don't think it stops there," Molly bent over the body, peering at the devastation. "God I hope I'm wrong."

"What is it?" the Doctor questioned.

"It's just," Molly struggled to the find the words. "The damage is immense but there is almost a methodical approach. Someone didn't just hack at this body, they prised it open deliberately. What's more, were this a human…"

"Just say it," Mycroft insisted.

"They'd be alive for the whole thing," Molly informed. "There cuts were done with the purpose of keeping the person alive."

"Just when you think this world would stop disgusting you," John shook his head.

"How many of these creatures live among us?" Sherlock queried.

"20 million," Kate replied. "All across the world. A rebellion or even exposure -"

"Could destabilize the entire planet," the Doctor understood.

"And no deaths outside of London?" Sherlock pulled out the victim's effects that were in a bin under the table.

"No thank God."

"I wouldn't thank him just yet," Sherlock located a wallet and began to rifle through it. "If the deaths are isolated to London, what are the creatures here likely to do?"

"Run," the Doctor concluded. "And they're called Zygons."

"Save your tears and dignity for when the body count is done," Sherlock scoffed. "The victim is a Paul Suthers, resident of Camden. Cheap wallet, understated clothes, definitely not someone who wanted to stand out and yet," he produced a massive wad of cash, "he had this."

"We found that with his body," Kate said. "Suthers made the withdrawal from his bank just two days before his estimated time of death. All legal tender and the money was solely from his bank account. Almost 7500 pounds."

"They are running," the Doctor mused. "Zygons are a combative species but ever pragmatic. If they are facing a threat that they deem more worthwhile to run from then we are in trouble. But where would they go?"

Kate looked down at the corpse, "They are supposed to contact us if they plan to move but relations being what they are…"

"I think they are headed for North America," Sherlock reasoned. "7500 pounds or just under 10000 dollars which is the limit for money being brought into the Canada and the US without reporting it to customs."

"America is particularly prone to the weird and strange activity. Not to mention it does have its fair share of non-human life," the Doctor added. "It would provide excellent cover as well as potential protection from other species."

"Kate I think I've found your next victim," Sherlock announced. He was holding a small business card and turned for them to see a number and an address with an ominous bloody fingerprint on one side.

"They could be alive," Amy said a bit frantically. "They're not a victim yet, just a potential lead."

"Of course dear," River said even as she checked her sidearm.

"They have to know that these murders are being investigated by someone," Lestrade spoke up. "The bodies are being found even if the Yard isn't handling it, your lot has been in public."

"I don't know, it's feels like something larger is going on here," John muttered. "I don't like this at all."

"Neither do I," the Doctor took a breath. "Kate I would reach out to the Zygons again, impress upon them the severity of the situation."

"I should like to be in that meeting myself," Mycroft said with finality.

"Good idea. A new face might help them see that you are taking this seriously," the Doctor nodded. "I think Doctor Hooper should stay here and continue to examine the body for new information, Amy, Rory, stay with her. No one should go anywhere alone, in case this turns out to be a wholly Zygon issue and we have body doubles running around. Myself, River, Sherlock, John, and Lestrade shall go to this address. Do you agree Mr. Holmes?"

"Completely," Sherlock bobbed his head.

"Be careful," Molly wished them.

"Let's go."


	7. Chapter 7

To Free Will  
Chapter 6 – The Ties That Bind Us

Mycroft wasn't sure what to expect going into a meeting with the leader of the Zygons but a small girl with brunette pigtails, purple jumper, jeans and red wellies imperiously making circuits around the board room was definitely not on the list. Kate shot him a warning look before extending her hand respectfully, "Leader Droflux."

"Miss Stewart," the child chirped taking it. "And this is…"

"Mycroft Holmes." The man also offered a hand. "Ms. Stewart has called me in to aid in your situation."

"You mean she's recruited your brother," the girl sniffed. "UNIT is having this much trouble?"

"I have been keeping you abreast of the investigation at every stage but the murders are attracting attention. Including from the government at large." Kate gestured for them to sit down. "Mycroft is a high-ranking official with close ties to MI-6 and crown secrets. He grew suspicious and I felt he and his brother could be a benefit to the case."

"I see, and what is purpose of calling me here?"

Kate weighed her words carefully, "Evidence suggests that the Zygons in London are attempting to run, possibly to North America. You haven't heard anything to that effect have you?"

"No. But if they are, you can hardly blame them," Droflux pursed her tiny mouth. "Faith is waning that the establishment really means to look after them."

"Well it doesn't matter either way," Mycroft informed her. "Their route has been compromised."

Now Droflux seemed concerned. "What?"

"The latest victim…" he checked his notes, "Paul Suthers was found with a large sum of money and contact information that the killer most definitely would have seen. Does the address 537 Jubilee Street mean anything to you?"

Droflux blanched. "Impossible."

"Not so much as it would seem." Mycroft showed the evidence bag with the bloody business card inside of it.

"You were supposed to inform UNIT if any of the Zygons here were going to leave the country," Kate said emphatically.

"What choice do we have? You're no closer to catching the murderers than the first day it happened." Droflux held the card mournfully. "They're scared Kate, we all are. We don't know who to trust or where to turn."

"Had it never occurred to you that you would be leading the threat to where more Zygons would be in danger?" Kate pointed out. "On top of that, you're not the only non-human species on this planet. You are risking the lives of other innocent beings."

Mycroft laid a calming hand on Kate and kept his tone even. "Where are they going?"

"America," Droflux gave in. "This is the address of the one who was helping to arrange transport out of the country. It was their job to find a new face with a similar face and age and gender of the Zygon's current identity and doctor the photo identification to match."

"Basically a face swap but the documentation would stay the same." Kate surmised and the Zygon leader nodded sadly.

Mycroft took out his phone. "I'll tell Sherlock that we have a high-priority target. With any luck. We may be able to save this person."

"If not, the consequences are dire," Droflux insisted.

"It won't come to that," Mycroft said dialling Sherlock's number. "We have the resources to get ahead of this."

*TFW*

"Understood," Sherlock nodded. He, River, Lestrade, John, and the Doctor stood outside the address. The door to the residence a silent sentinel of whatever waited for them. "You and Kate work with the leader to spread the word amongst the Zygons, somebody must know something." He ended the call, "The stakes have gotten considerably higher."

"No sign of a break in," Lestrade frowned. "Not that that means much given the level sophistication we've seen so far."

"Agreed," the Doctor concurred. "And I don't sense anything. My species is low-level telepathic," he said by way of explanation. "I don't detect a presence but again that doesn't mean much if the Zygon is shielding."

"I guess that leaves just opening the door," John stepped up. Using a handkerchief to cover his hand, he gingerly turned the knob and found it unlocked. Every person there knew that wasn't a good sign but nothing could have prepared them for the bloodbath they immediately walked into. Broken furniture. Papers scattered everywhere. The walls were littered with holes and dents and covered in blood and some kind of red viscous liquid that the Doctor warned them not to touch. A small fire was going in the hearth with several charred manila folders still smouldering while a Zygon lay dead in it's natural state in front of it.

"This is recent," John examined the fire. "The Zygon must have taken precautions. Look, the folders are bound together with something that ignited ahead of the papers. Probably woven tinder."

"Genius," River bobbed her head. "The binding would catch, accelerating the fire, and stopping anyone from touching them."

"Yes well done but there is nothing to say that the information wasn't compromised," Sherlock took out his cell again. "I have to call Mycroft. The Zygons must be alerted that they have been compromised and to switch identities immediately. Even if we're unbelievably lucky and everything is still here, it would be foolish to assume that whatever information this person had is one hundred percent safe."

River sighed, catching the Doctor's attention. "What? What is it?"

"We can send the word out to everyone still here in England but -"

"But anyone already gone abroad," Lestrade cast a glance to Sherlock a few feet away. "We won't get to them in time."

*TFW*

 _Grantsburg, Wisconsin_

A black '67 Impala pulls up to the edge of a forest where a small, thin man in a canvas jacket and jeans waited. Three men exit the car, two in plaid and blue jeans and the other in a suit and trench coat. "Thanks for coming guys," the small man greeted.

"No problem Garth, you sounded worried on the phone." The _much_ taller of the plaid-bearing men said.

"I know I've been out of the game for a while but I can't have been gone that long." Garth beckoned the trio to follow him into the trees. "Some of the pack found it during a hunt. Wouldn't touch it. Not that I blame them, don't smell like any meat I've ever known."

"I can see your point," the trench-coated man noted. "The stench is thick in the air and doesn't smell of anything of Earth."

"As long as it's not moving, I'm not worried yet," the shorter man shrugged.

"Well it sure as hell isn't moving." Garth led them to a clearing where a mangled red corpse lay on the ground. It was humanoid in appearance save for the shoulders, neck, and head being fused together into a triangular shape.

The short man whistled lowly, "You sure the pack didn't go after this?"

"Dean please," Garth rolled his eyes. "We're werewolves not savages. Anyway what do you think?" he asked as the taller man crouched down near the remains while the one in a trench coat examined the surroundings.

"Don't touch it Sam," Dean warned the tall one.

"I'm not." Sam took a hunter's knife and gingerly looked through the innards of the corpse. "Definitely not a werewolf, one of Garth's or otherwise. I'm pretty sure this is the heart here but it's different. But I don't think a hunter did this either."

"What makes you say that?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Way too much overkill," Sam stood. "Unless the hunter seriously didn't know when it was dead."

"This is not an earthly creature," the trench-coat man stated.

"Cas?" Dean frowned.

"All beings of this planet are similar in composition of chemicals but this one has none of them," Cas explained. "As if it is from another planet altogether."

"Aliens?" Sam said in disbelief.

"It would seem so."

"So is this good or bad?" Garth pointed to the remains.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, "Only time will tell."


	8. Chapter 8

To Free Will  
Chapter 7 – Coming To America

 **A/N: Hello everyone, damn it's been a while. Sorry to leave you all hanging for so long. Hopefully this will make up for it, and we're one or two chapters away from all of our heroes meeting. I can't wait to write that. Until next time, ENJOY! R &R PL! **

The team went back to the TARDIS to collect Molly, Rory, and Amy and left Mycroft and Kate to keep tabs on the English Zygons. It was hard to pin down precisely who to look for but they figured they'd start by stalking out the airport. "Remember their documents will have changed pictures but their digital files won't." the Doctor said.

"Kate said there's been a rise in the cheaper commercial flights going to New York, most then go on to take a connection to another destination," Amy continued.

"We've only got one chance to spot a potential Zygon." Lestrade picked it up. "We're aiming for Flight 619. It was one of the first to fill up really fast so hopefully we'll catch someone from the initial wave. Each of us will take a tablet with the images of all the passengers and canvas the terminal."

"Above all else, do not look as though you're here to harm anyone," River cautioned. "No weapons, hands must always be visible. First thing you should do is say that you are operating under the Tower Treaty and pose no threat. That should be a signal that you're trustworthy."

"Pick ONE person to follow," John stressed. "Don't just dash about the place or we'll alert the authorities. We're already breaking into the terminal. The less attention we get the better."

"But stay where you are visible," the Doctor concluded. "This is still an alien species under threat, they may attack you or even make themselves into a clone of you and it would be quite difficult to figure out."

"Sounds simple," Rory remarked.

"Quite," the Doctor wrung his hands. "We need to get ahead of this and do it now before anything else becomes fixed."

"What does that?" Molly asked.

"It means that we can't go back," River explained. "For example, all the deaths are now fixed points in time, so even when we find the killer and it can't be reversed. The paradoxes that would ensue would be catastrophic."

The TARDIS made an abrupt sound then quietened. "We've landed," Sherlock led them out the doors that opened into a closet of some kind. Sherlock left first then called John to let him know when the coast was clear for them to emerge in pairs. Once everyone was out, they got immediately to work.

The terminal was loud and bustling with people racing to catch flights or find luggage or trying to track down relatives. The team kept in the general area of where the passengers were supposed to disembark, impatiently counting down the minutes to the plane's arrival. River and the Doctor took seats with Rory opposite them. Molly was positioned at a nearby coffee cart while Lestrade pretended to browse the duty free catalogue near the magazine kiosk. John and Amy agreed to stake out the men's and women's restrooms respectively. Each of them had their tablet at the ready and before long, the arrival call sounded and people began to file in.

It was like an odd game of Guess Who. The images that matched with someone were discarded while the others were scrutinized for similar identifiers. The team sprung into action trying to talk to them. Some potential targets all but ducked their heads and ran while others attempted to behave slightly more casual but still remain unapproachable and rebuffed attempts at conversation. If they didn't catch one soon, they'd have to wait for the next flight in 12 hours.

Finally one potential walked towards Molly's coffee cart. She looked young, no more than twenty, with waist-length black hair and a small frame. She was a similar match to a Kathleen Breyer on the list and Molly cleared her throat. "Long travel?"

"You have no idea," 'Kathleen' said with tight smile. "Not done yet either, have to catch a connection in an hour."

"Vacation?"

"Of sorts."

"I'm Molly by the way," Molly extended a hand. "I'm from London as well, I work at St. Bart's."

"Kathleen," the other woman took her hand. "I've seen you in the paper. You work with Sherlock Holmes."

"More like he irritates me into helping him," Molly gave a hollow laugh. "He's not nearly as glamorous as the media makes him out to be."

"I can imagine." Kathleen smiled, a little less forced this time. "What brings you to New York?"

"Needed to get away from London for a bit. It's getting rough there," Molly bit her lip. "All those murders…"

Kathleen flinched almost imperceptibly, "Yes. Terrible business."

"Yes, a few of the victims came across my table," Molly genuinely shivered recalling the horror. "It was enough to convince me that coming here was a good idea. The Doctor didn't even have to ask really."

Kathleen froze, "The Doctor?"

"Yes UNIT called him and Sherlock in." Molly watched with baited breath for Kathleen's next move. The woman began to breathe heavily, eyes darting all over as if she was about to bolt. The pathologist just barely laid her fingertips on her wrist. "You don't have to be frightened. I'm here under the Tower Treaty, you're not in any trouble. The Doctor is here, Sherlock is here, everyone is here to help all of you. But you have to speak with us, you've been compromised, all of you."

Kathleen blanched and tears began to form. "How?"

"Jubilee Street was ransacked and the Zygon inside was killed," Molly informed and Kathleen burst into sobs.

"No, no, no, no," she wept. "We're dead, we're all dead."

"No you're not," Molly held her comfortingly, also signalling for the others to come. "You'll be safe." The Doctor and Sherlock got to them first. 'Go gently' she mouthed to them and they nodded their acknowledgement.

"Hello there," the Doctor softly took her. "I'm the Doctor."

"Yes I know who you are," Kathleen sniffed. "And you too," she added to Sherlock.

"Then you know we're on your side," the Doctor said. "I can't even imagine what you've been through but we want to help. Why don't we have a seat and talk about this?"

"Okay," the woman said softly.

Once the team were gathered, Kathleen sat in between Molly and the Doctor, Sherlock and John across from them, with the others standing to afford them some sort of privacy. "What can you tell us about the murders?" Sherlock started.

"They keep finding us," Kathleen whimpered. "We tried everything but no matter where we go, what we do, who we look like, the suits keeping finding us."

"Who's 'the suits'?" River asked.

"That's what we call them. Different people, always dressed formally. They just show up and in a heartbeat they're gone. My sister…she was taken on her way back from work…I was on the phone with her." Kathleen cried anew. "A man came on and I begged to speak with my sister. He told me 'The freak was already dead.' He said, 'We know what you are and we'll kill you all. You're next'. I was so scared. I called Leader Droflux who told us to check into hotel run by one of us that night. She sent a car and we packed some clothes and essentials and ran that night."

"We?" Molly repeated.

"My family – my partner and my children. They're still in London." Kathleen showed them a picture of her original face presumably with a man and four children no older than ten. The Doctor took it and shared a loaded glance with Sherlock before passing it to him. Holmes sighed through his nose heavily. "They're waiting for me to find somewhere to stay and then they'll come over. Will I see them again?"

"We will do everything in our power to get you back with your family," River swore.

"We'll have to call a state of emergency or something," Lestrade concluded. "This isn't some rogue killer, this is an entire operation from the sound of it. All the Zygons will need to be put into protective custody immediately."

"What about the ones that are already here?" John interjected.

"It will be impossible to catch them all now," Kathleen admitted. "We're all going somewhere different."

"They may have a fighting chance," the Doctor supposed. "If they take the right precautions. Perhaps it would be best if you follow through with your plans too," he said to Kathleen. "We don't know for sure what information the suits have. Did your contact at Jubilee have your new face on file as well?"

"Yes," Kathleen answered. "So he didn't accidentally give the same face twice."

"You'll have to switch as soon as you get to where you're going," the Doctor instructed. "Amy can give you our contact information. Regular check ins are a must and try to reach out to any Zygons and tell them to do the same."

"Alright," Kathleen rose. "Doctor, I'm scared. I don't want to die."

"You won't, just be careful." Kathleen nodded and left, the Doctor motioned for Amy to follow. "Show her how to find us." The redhead nodded and went with the Zygon.

"I've got a nasty feeling about this," Lestrade grumbled.

River folded her arms, "We all do."


End file.
